


aesthetic appreciation

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Sandalphon's family is not particularly religious.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sandal phone jones

Contrary to popular belief, Sandalphon's family is not particularly religious. One set of grandparents were lapsed Catholics, the other set Agnostic. His father had never been to church outside of Easter and Christmas (and he still missed most of those), his mother, well, that's where the problem started wasn't it?

You see, twenty or so years ago, a Mrs. Carla Jones—forty six years old, accountant—had watched _The Prince of Egypt_. This in itself wasn't bad, Sandalphon had to admit it was pretty decent, all things considered, the problem was what it led to. _The Prince of Egypt_ was more than just a movie, it was a gateway drug into the biblical film industry.

Sandalphon's seen the DVDs and Blurays stacked side by side: from the requisite stuff like _Ben-Hur_ to more niche features (like the lesser known adaptations of Ben-Hur), branching out to the point that she brought home one starring _Hanuman_ last week. Hundreds of preachers and filmmakers worked hard, day in and day out, praying their viewers would learn to love Jesus; Sandalphon's mother fell in love with the aesthetic instead.

And that wasn't all. The Bible was a big book, even without counting all the apocryphal texts, filled with plenty of nice common names like Michael and Gabriel. As it so happened, Mrs. Carla Jones wanted twins. And like many people who wanted twins, she had to give them matching names.

Sandalphon was, however, an only child. As it so turned out, his aunt really hated her sister. Sandalphon can relate—he's been bullied enough at school to sympathize, but it's her method of getting back that he has issues with. His mom had been sitting on a bunch of names for a while, far before she even got pregnant. Baby names, pet names, car tag plates; she had them all.

Her sister had asked, ever so nicely, if she could see the lists one day and his mother, more than proudly, read them off. _Sandalphon and Metatron_ , she had enunciated with particular relish.

 _Metatron_ , she had said flatly, a year later, upon discovering the name of her sister's new baby.

And that's what sealed in his fate. His chances of being a Michael or Gabriel were shot, his mother, refusing to let her sister have the other one too, christened him with Sandalphon. And he had to deal with years of _sandy sells sea shells by the sea shore_ while cousin Metatron skyrocketed into popularity with the revival of the Transformers series.

 

Nowadays, Sandalphon is mostly over it. He's older now, seventeen, practically an adult. He's mature enough to realize that a name is just a name, there's nothing special in it. It's something everyone should know by now. Romeo and Juliet was assigned 9th grade reading, after all.

So yeah, he's over it. He's got friends...well, _friend_. Singular. It's cool, though, because Lucifer (yeah like _that_ Lucifer) is like, the nicest, most perfect guy ever.

They met in the fifth grade. Sandalphon, at ten, racked up too many suspensions for biting another kid (who to be fair, absolutely deserved it) and was encouraged to transfer before the school was forced to resort to more serious measures. Carla Jones, PTA mom that she was, struggled every bit of the way, but in the end, was forced to accept the school's decision.

 

Enter Lucifer.

 

Sandalphon was put into his class, assigned seats side by side. The teacher had called the both of them to her desk during the morning announcements.

She started off with the usual spiel that teachers throw at the problem kids. _We hope to make this a wonderful learning environment and hope that you too, will..._ yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah…

Then she motioned to the blond next to him. This, she said, is Lucifer Darkness. He'll be your buddy. And with a parting, _please take care of him_ , to Lucifer, she sends them back.

"So," Sandalphon asks later that day, halfway through a slice of school pizza. "Darkness, right?"

"Dharkness." Lucifer corrects with a smile. "There's an 'h' in there." He dabs the corners of his mouth with a napkin, lifting away any trace of grease elegantly.

That day, Sandalphon falls in love.

 

The thing with being in love, is that nobody really teaches you how to do it. Almost all the major romance stories were straight shit (which according to the straight people, kinda bullshit), the others a heavy handed _its okay to be gay!_ message. School teaches them when to stick it in (never, according to the state curriculum. except maybe if you're married with a stable job and 401k), but not much of the other stuff.

To add further insult, practically the entire school knows. Sandalphon has his faults (many, in fact) and being incredibly unsubtle is one of them. His seven years of pining doesn't miss any eyes, that is, except for Lucifer.

Their student council president (yeah, Lucifer's got one hell of a college application) is pretty much the full package. He's handsome, smart, athletic, taking multiple AP courses while also captaining the archery team; a total dreamboat.

The thing is that all this stuff takes time and effort, so when it comes down to doing things with actual people or being The Perfect, Lucifer makes the same choice every single time.

And Sandalphon isn't bitter, not really. If Lucifer doesn't like him like that it's totally okay, but, you know… would a little acknowledgement be too much to ask for?

 

Sandalphon's tried. He really has. From _hey why don't you let your vice president_ (ha ha) _help out_ to _I can look after the team if you're busy_ , every single one of his attempts has been rebuffed with a _don't worry it's my responsibility_. And so, student council vice president remains an empty title and Sandalphon continues to mope alone at lunch, his only companion a slice of school pizza that somehow tastes worse over the years.

Regardless, his one companion soon disappears, but there's a knock at his table, a lunchtray being placed across from him that signal the addition of an actually human one.

Now Sandalphon likes Lyria well enough, she's a good kid, way easier to tutor than those other brats in her class, but Moping Time is sacred (check his name, he would know), and so he pulls his hood down, pops in his headphones, and places his head in his arms. Effective at blocking out all distractions.

 _"Sandalphon!"_ A hand is placed on his shoulder, shaking him alert, and dislodging his earbuds.

Correction: most distractions.

"Yes?" He grits out.

"Did you hear?" Lyria asks. "About the dance?"

 

Ah, so that's what it was. Every few months or so, someone different decides that they're going to help them out and make this happen. They show up with alarming frequency at school dances as well as Valentine's, trailing off during the rest of the year with an uptick near the holiday season.

It's quaint. Hopelessly naive, but his love life has essentially become prime time entertainment, so it's not surprising.

Sandalphon, who actually likes Lyria, lifts his head up. "What's your plan?"

Lyria smiles. "It's already in progress!" She points to Lucifer, who's making his way to their table. Sandalphon quickly sits up straight, smoothing out his hair.

 

"Lucifer!" He greets when the other is only a few feet away. "Are you finished?"

"Not yet," the other says. "I just wanted to talk to you. You've heard of the dance, correct?"

"Yes!" Sandalphon blurts out, a bit too quick. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah, I have."

"Good." It should be illegal how dazzling that smile is. "I think Djeeta wants to go with you." Lucifer points, across the cafeteria, at Lyria's girlfriend.

"She says you look radiant," he adds for good measure.

Lucifer leaves right after, Sandalphon gaping like a fish behind him.

"Sandalphon, I'm so–"

Sandalphon raises a finger to cut off her apology. He grabs his headphones, popping them back into place. His hood is once again pulled down low, his head back in his arms.

 

He wants to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Lucifer's parents aren't satanists or any kind of religious, either. They legally changed their names to Darkness with an H, either ignoring or not realizing how it clashes with the whole 'light bringer' thing the name Lucifer has.
> 
> \- Might make this a series but idk tbh
> 
> please kudos/comment if you liked!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so haha, guess im continuing this. uh warning for ooc (intentional tho bc points, high school au), bad formatting, and the fact i typed this up while super sick.

Sandalphon, naturally, is the first person to notice.

Hardcore crushing (it's love, okay. it's _love_ ) on your best friend comes with the side benefit of being ridiculously hyper aware of everything they do. Literally. Lucifer chewed on the end of the pencil once and Sandalphon had that image in his head for _days._

Unusual moods? Sandalphon's got you covered. Slightly rumpled clothes? He'd be the first to know. A case of the sniffles? All aboard the SS Heartbreak.

So of course, it's him that sees slight pallor to his skin, hears the barely noticeable roughness in his voice, before anyone else. And of course, it's him who immediately heads to Lucifer’s desk the moment the bell rings—the terror of AP Calculus BC on hold until next week—with a frown on his face and a lecture on his lips.

“Lucifer,” he says, staring the other down. “You're overworking yourself again.”

Lucifer smiles. He lifts a hand. Fingers dance across the planes of his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, delicately lifting away his bangs and settling on his forehead. “Hmm,” he says. “I don't seem to have a fever.”

Sandalphon swallows.

He clears his throat. He goes for something smart, something that says _yes I did ace ap bio last year_ , but ends up floundering instead. His mouth moves but the words don't follow. His heart beats fast and his brain’s output slows down to a crawl.

And soon, it's Lucifer that's looking at him, all concerned.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Sandalphon gets a call.

His phone rings and rings, waking him up at nine am on a perfectly fine Saturday. He turns over; buries his head underneath the pillows.

It rings again. Another pillow. Again.

_Goddamnit._

He picks up the phone with all the grace of a particularly clumsy sloth, swipes across without even looking at the screen.

“It's Saturday,” he states, voice flat.

The person at the other end of the line giggles, responding in a voice incredibly familiar. “Still a late sleeper, Sandy?”

Sandalphon sighs. “Mrs. Dharkness–”

“–I told you to call me _Mom_."

“Mrs. Dharkness,” he repeats. “Is there a problem?”

There's a pause at the other end of the phone. A moment, two, then Lucifer's mother speaks—more subdued this time. “My shift starts in an hour or so, but Lucifer…”

“Let me guess.” Sandalphon says, slowly raising himself up. “He's sick.”

Lucifer is incredibly sick, as a matter of fact. He's lying on the couch when Sandalphon enters, shivering under a pile of blankets.

“Sandalphon,” he says, flashing that same frustratingly effective smile. “How have you been?”

Sandalphon pinches the bridge of his nose. He stares at Lucifer, trying to express the sheer amount of exasperation bottled inside.

It's not very effective.

“I'm alright,” he says a moment later, accompanied by a sigh. “But I doubt that you can say the same.”

Sandalphon takes a seat across the other, on one the flashy decorative chairs Lucifer's mother bought years back—too worn for their formal sitting area now—clashing haphazardly with the whole homey image the couch and sick teenager set up.

“It's not big of a deal,” Lucifer says, once Sandalphon is all settled in. “It'll go away on its own in a couple of hours.”

(As a matter of fact, Lucifer did not take AP Bio with Sandalphon last year. He took AP Physics instead.)

Sandalphon turns his head a little to the right. He stares at what is no doubt a vomit bucket, then shifts back, attention all on Lucifer. “I see.”

And with that, the conversation is soon redirected. An awkward silence is replaced by even more awkward small talk. Sandalphon—teenager in love, but you know, _teenager_ —valiantly plays along with all the enthusiasm he can muster.

 _How's the weather?_ Shitty.

 _How's school_? A raised eyebrow. Shittier.

 _Did you do anything interesting yesterday_? Poured two hours into Fortnite.

He's trying. Really.

The kettle goes off, shrill and piercing—interrupting Lucifer's attempts to become Sandalphon’s second mother (and saving their hypothetical romance from descending into the Pits of Problematic). Lucifer’s own mother probably left it on, too much in a hurry to grab a cup, but Sandalphon watches as her son perks up at the noise, eyes growing wide.

“I’ll get you some,” Sandalphon says, making his way into the kitchen.

Lucifer, coffee fiend that he is, always prepares his grounds from scratch. He buys beans off the internet, roasts them himself in that fancy little appliance he dropped a couple hundred on, and grinds them down in his mother's old spice grinder.

He seals off the powder into neat little baggies, replacing them weekly. Sandalphon grabs the one labeled _light roast_ —and after a moment of hesitation—dumps a couple of spoonfuls into a french press. He cracks open a couple of cardamom pods, throwing them in as well for good measure.

The water has cooled a little by then—but not substantially. Sandalphon empties the entire kettle in the press (because you know, the more the merrier or something), inserting the filter in last and pushing down.

He snags a pack of maamoul cookies, in case Lucifer needed anything solid, a cup (more necessary), and carries the whole ensemble back to the living room.

Lucifer drinks the coffee immediately, unconcerned with the harm to his tongue and person, pours out another. And another.

While dehydration is to be expected, and while cardamom does help settle the stomach, downing coffee at mach five is hardly what Sandalphon would call Perfectly Healthy Behavior and he lets Lucifer know.

“Don't worry about it, Sandalphon.” He says as he pours himself yet another cup. “I just need a little pick me up to get started again. You understand, right?”

Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's the years of frustration, of being brushed aside one too many times. Or maybe it's just that he ranked pretty badly in yesterday's games, but its that—the beseeching look with the gentle eyes but firm tone—that makes Sandalphon unload on his friend.

“I don't understand.” He says. He starts off soft, with examples, nicely cited. Organizing the Sadie Hawkins Dance (eighth grade); Running the Engineering Club’s Food Drive (tenth grade); The Latin Club’s Special SAT Prep Session (also tenth grade). The list goes on and on.

He switches, inevitably to himself, voice rising and growing harsher with emotion. _It's my job to help you out! Why can't you understand that!!_ Lucifer tries to interrupt but Sandalphon holds up a hand, a demand to let him finish.

“I try,” he says. “To do as much as I can, to be useful. But to you, that doesn't matter, does it?”

“Lucifer,” he continues. “Is perfect. He has to be perfect. He doesn't need anyone by his side. Especially not some fool he's stringing along, promising that they'll work _together_ to take care of things!”

Sandalphon’s chest heaves with exertion when he finishes, forcing himself to take deep breath after deep breath to calm down. Catharsis is a hell of a thing, he's starting to feel better already but he tries his hardest to not let it show up on his face. More than anything, he needs to stand his ground on this one.

“Is that how it is?” Lucifer asks, after a long pause.

“Yes,” Sandalphon lifts his head. “It is.”

“I understand.” (Sandalphon wants nothing more than to interrupt with a _no you don't, you really don't.)_ “I will strive to make you feel included in the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! lucifer arab boy (i was thinking dad originally from jordan) bc smth smth canaan smth smth i said so.
> 
> next chapter hopefully! belial bites back. bc what is a trashy hsau without a rival plus! remember that kid sandalphon got suspended for biting? haha

**Author's Note:**

> \- Lucifer's parents aren't satanists or any kind of religious, either. They legally changed their names to Darkness with an H, either ignoring or not realizing how it clashes with the whole 'light bringer' thing the name Lucifer has.
> 
> \- Might make this a series but idk tbh
> 
> please kudos/comment if you liked!


End file.
